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[fujimaru]

Ritsuka Fujimaru | 藤丸 立香
19(?) / F / Who knows!!

This is Ritsuka! Leave a message and I'll get back to you.

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[fujimaru]

In your Lostbelt?

[ She's quiet, only gently curious, keeping her head tilted up towards him. If anything, she cuddles a fraction closer, to press warmly together for comfort. ]

I think... um. Let's go back, okay? I think I was always a little curious, in the back of my head. About you guys. But there was so much going on during that first year. I couldn't even think that much about my family... but sometimes I'd think, I wish someone else was here to help.

[ Her voice stays low, quiet, maybe just a little guilty. It's not even that she really wishes anyone else would have to suffer what she went through--but there had still been times where she'd thought: I wish I wasn't the only one. I wish it wasn't all on me. I wish there was someone else to help. ]

But--before everything went wrong, when I thought I was just going to be leaving and you guys would take over... I really hoped I'd get to talk to you before I had to go.

[impostorsyndrome]

[The guilt is a current in him right now—strong, burbling, threatening to pull him under. But it isn't a wave. Kadoc can hold it off. And more than that, he wants to; there's always something selfishly indulgent to giving himself over to self-loathing, he knows. That's why he does it so often. But a conversation like this is worth kicking those feelings away from himself, not even just burying them to linger on later. . . . He can feel how hard it must be for her to have this conversation. She's guilty, too. She shouldn't be, but shit, who wouldn't be fucked up about everything after what she's been through?

Kadoc's arm tightens around her. The word sorry is on his tongue for the billionth time, but he swallows it down. It's so trite. It's not really what he wants to say.]

. . . It couldn't have ever been that way. Thinking about it, we were always gonna be apart for one reason or the other. Couldn't exactly sit down and have a chat with you after taking the Alien God's deal, but if I hadn't taken the deal, I'd be too dead to do anything else anyway. . . . When I think about that, it's not that all this here on this planet feels like a miracle. It's more that it actually is one.

[fujimaru]

Maybe...

[ She curls closer to him, instinctive, leaning into the curve of his body. There's something soothing about the strength of his grip, like they're figuring out how to properly fit together, and isn't that something? They're separate people, but together, they're a little less alone.

Her own hand hooks in his shirt, gripping back. ]

I guess--they said they had you guys in some kind of coma state. I think everyone believed you guys were still alive, just hurt. The plan was always to revive you somehow. I just didn't know how.

[ She dips her head a little, then tilts it so she can peer up at him through her bangs. The ghost of a smile tugs at her lips. ]

It would've been better if we could've helped you, but I'm not going to regret I've had the chance to meet you now.

[impostorsyndrome]

. . . I can't either. I mean, I'm the kinda guy who always regrets everything. You know that about me . . . you've been there.

[She'd been there. For his final moments with Anastasia, and everything that came before them . . . she knows him. Regretting things always feels like such a cop-out. For so long, he hadn't wanted to admit to her that he regretted anything about what happened to Chaldea, because . . . isn't saying something like that meaningless? Isn't it just cold comfort? I ruined your life, but I feel bad about it, just so you know?

But she already does know. Kadoc leans into her comfortably, head resting against hers. It feels good like this. The feeling of being alone in the world feels distant to him now, maybe for the first time ever.]

But I can't make myself regret right now, with you. . . . What a twisted world.

[fujimaru]

Mmhmm.

[ She can't say, herself, just what that hum of assent is for. Agreeing about being there? That the world is twisted? That she doesn't regret? Maybe all of them, or maybe just the sentiment underneath it all, that this closeness is something she's been seeking for years, and she's happy to have it now.

For a long, quiet minute, she just stays leaning against him, basking. And then she pulls away--just far and long enough to set her mug down, and once her hands are free, she turns more fully into him, wrapping both arms around him. The gesture is tentative, still not entirely sure of her welcome... but still more confident than before. They've spent a year learning each other; it's time to see how well she's learned. ]

[impostorsyndrome]

[Kadoc thinks more than ever these days about how his learned dislike of touch has made him starved for it over the years. There's never been a good place or time to indulge in it. With his team? Like he trusted any of them with it, Pepe aside, and even that was a grudging tolerance. But he'd wanted it, on some level. And now—with everything this place is, good and bad, it's also finally the place and time. He's allowed to slowly lift his arms and wrap them around her in turn, and just revel. Human touch is a weapon, and a balm. It's a marvel how bodies fit together. It's poetic how its simplicity makes him feel. He rests his nose fully in her hair, hands spread on her back, heavy and still.]

[fujimaru]

[ A pleased little noise escapes her, just barely above a sigh. Touch has been such a mixed bag for her, as well: there are too many Servants in Chaldea for only one approach. Some are utterly casual in how they approach her, a slap to the back, an arm over her shoulders, hands lifting her out of danger. Some are standoffish and brittle, skirting her physically without ever making contact.

But there's never been anything like this, this kind of one-on-one contact that is simple, and quiet, and warm. She sighs, melting into the embrace. It doesn't actually take her burdens away, or change the realities of their situation, here or at home... but she feels like she could take real strength from this regardless. ]

Hey, Kadoc... thanks.

[impostorsyndrome]

[For what? He opens his mouth to ask, but then he hesitates. It feels like an anxious reaction, constantly asking her for clarification, validation—Can you please explain again the exact thing I did that you're thanking me for, so I can do it again? He knows himself. And, somehow, miraculously, he knows her now too, and maybe having to put her feelings into words isn't what Ritsuka needs at this moment.

So he stops, and he smiles instead, forcing the question from his mind as best he can in favor of something that matters more:]

. . . Yeah. Thanks. Ritsuka . . . for everything.

[fujimaru]

[ She hums briefly, small and pleased in her throat, in pleased response to his words. He might be able to see the little smile that curls her lips in turn, or maybe he'll just be able to hear it in her voice; there's no Right or Wrong response, but she's openly pleased about this.

And for a few minutes she doesn't say anything else, just leaning quietly against him, her body relaxed, until she snuffles and lifts her head, blinking fuzzily into space. ]

Sorry--'m gonna fall asleep on you like this.

[impostorsyndrome]

It's not like I'd mind that, but we should probably be on the couch for it.

[It sounds . . . kinda nice, actually. Sleep is such a fraught thing for Kadoc. The intimacy of someone else trusting him enough to sleep in his presence, touching him? It's a lot. It fills him with a soothing warmth where he so often feels cold. But maybe not standing in the kitchen over hot tea.]

[fujimaru]

Says you. S'a special skill of mine, sleeping standing up.

[ Standing up, in random hallways, on random forest floors--if you statted her up like a Servant, she would surely have the ability to sleep anywhere. As long as he was also there, she thinks she'd be content.

But he has a good point. Sleeping standing up is fine, but napping on the couch with him does sound better. So after another couple of seconds of just leaning comfortably against him, she unpeels herself from his side, groping blindly for Kadoc's hand and tugging as she stumbles for the living room. ]

[impostorsyndrome]

You're serious.

[Wait wait wait. They really are going to sleep on the couch together?! Of course he takes her hand, swallowing more noisily than he'd like for something that's definitely just an innocent suggestion. It's just sleeping. Sleeping with her lying on him . . . ]

You . . . sure that's gonna be comfortable?

[Not that he'd suggest the bed instead. He definitely would not suggest the bed instead. He's not even thinking that! At all!]

[fujimaru]

I've got a very nice couch. I've slept on it before.

[ She is 100% serious, who does he take her for,

But she glances at him as she leads him into the living room, where there is a plush couch waiting. It's not at all wide enough for two people to lie on side-by-side, but that's not how Ritsuka is planning on sleeping on it. And they're both skinny things; as long as they're settled in a pile, it should be fine. Right? ]

--but, uh, if you don't want to, you don't have to...

[impostorsyndrome]

It's not that I don't.

[A little too fast. No, no, don't think he doesn't! He does! He very much does! He's not going to mess this up for himself by being weird about it! He even begins walking towards it, swallowing hard.]

It's just—a lot to take in. In a good way. But it's still a lot.

[fujimaru]

...as long as it's a good thing.

[ She gives his hand a gentle squeeze as she says it, swinging them once. Hopefully it soothes him, at least a little.

The first thing she does, when they reach the couch, is to sit. She pulls him down with her; they can work up to lying down, as it were. Just sitting is nice too. ]

You have to tell me if there's anything you don't like. Or want. That's the only way I'll know.

[impostorsyndrome]

I can promise you that.

[He sits with her, holding her hand tightly—not squeezing hard, but he's firm about it, and he turns to look directly at her with his sudden rush of earnestness.]

I want you to promise me, too. But I swear . . . I'll always be honest with you.

[fujimaru]

Then there's no problem.

[ She brightens, squeezing his hand on turn, before she leans to press her lips to his cheek in a quick little kiss. It feels simultaneously daring and easy to do. ]

I'll be honest too. If we remember that, then we'll definitely be all right.

[impostorsyndrome]

It sounds so easy. Nevermind that it's the hardest thing to do.

[People, being open with one another? Being known, and vulnerable, and truthful? Keeping their minds open? What a thought. But there's something about the thought that warms him just as much as the kiss does; Kadoc can feel his skin heat at the touch, and his chest warm with the mutual promise.]

. . . But you're worth it. That's how I know how I feel about you. . . . Can I kiss you?

[fujimaru]

Eh--ah--... y-yeah.

[ She starts to duck her head, then catches herself, just peeking up at him through her lashes. There's a tiny shy smile on her lips, bashful but not uncertain, and a beat later she tips her face up to him instead. ]

Yeah. I'd like that.

[impostorsyndrome]

[His whole chest feels tight and hot. They're settled comfortably on the couch now, alone, and she's looking up at him like that. It feels like he's sinking into slow quicksand it might take him hours to escape from, if he wanted to escape at all, but he's not sure he will. They'll find the two of them here a week from now, twined together on this couch . . .

That's getting ahead of himself more than a little, and his face feels glowingly warm with the thought as he sways in carefully to press his lips to hers. One thing at a time. And if it's this one thing for the next forever, that sounds like a heaven he doesn't want to escape, either.]

[fujimaru]

[ A little noise rises out of her, small and soft as her eyes flutter shut. She leans in to meet him halfway, one hand lifting up to settle on his chest, her fingers curling loosely in his shirt. This isn't their first kiss, after all--it's better, to be honest. There's none of the anxiety of an uncertain relationship, there's no audience, there's no pressure of an awkward party game. It's just the two of them, more settled than before, doing this because they want to.

Her lips curl into a smile, gentle, keeping the pressure light between them. Just the touch makes her heart pick up its pace, but there's also no urgency to the kiss. It just feels good, in multiple ways, to lean her body into his, letting the kiss hold for long, gentle seconds. ]

[impostorsyndrome]

[This feels like something he could do forever—relaxing and exciting all at once, comfortable and fascinating. He could hold her for hours and not feel like it was enough. They may be snatching this happiness out of an impossible situation, but they have all the time in the world to enjoy it. At least—it feels like it, in this moment.

He holds the kiss there sweetly, almost chaste, dragging out the simple pleasure of it before he dares to part his lips for her.]

[fujimaru]

[ A breathy little noise bubbles out of her, just enough voice to shift it from a sigh to a moan. It barely sounds like her voice to her own ears, but there's also something thrilling about that. They're doing this together, a new experience for them both, slow and sweet and--comfortable. As exciting as it is, she feels more safe than she's ever been.

In answer, she parts her lips as well, letting her tongue dart out briefly to touch his lip, a shyly playful brush of contact. ]

[impostorsyndrome]

[It feels so easy. What in his life has ever felt easy? It feels like he should be nervous enough to vibrate out of his skin, and sure, his heart is picking up fast, but . . . yeah. Safe. He feels it too, emotionally even, and that's always been a more impossible safety for him to chase than the physical. He has the confidence to chase her tongue with his, testing exactly how it feels when they meet, with a soft little smile on his lips instead of the fearful tension he's always imagined and dreaded.]

[fujimaru]

[ She startles at the returning contact, and then giggles. She can't really help it; it bubbles out of her chest and into his mouth before she can even think to stop it. It feels more like instinct than anything: the simple sense of pleasure that comes from this exploratory contact, and her own natural inclination of how to react. She leans harder into him, though now she's smiling too much to deepen the kiss any further. Yes, in fact, she likes this. She thinks she could get very used to feeling like this. ]